


in the end, we’ll become one

by mybiasis



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff, Holidays, M/M, Romantic Soulmates, Slow Burn, Soulmates, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 18:11:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17085233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mybiasis/pseuds/mybiasis
Summary: “A pair bond is the strong affinity that develops in some species between two members, potentially leading to a lifelong bond.”Soonyoung lives in a world where pair bonds, known colloquially as soulmates, establish a telepathic connection upon first meeting. But Kwon Soonyoung is a firm believer that not all soulmates are meant to be, pushing people out as he battles his own demons. Lee Chan disagrees. One of them is bound to compromise.





	in the end, we’ll become one

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xumingno](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xumingno/gifts).



> happy holidays, my secret santa. thank you for bringing soonchan into my life. I am irrevocably in love.

 

The first time Soonyoung sees Lee Chan, he's sitting at the back of a darkened auditorium. He holds a dimpled playbill in his hand where a cast list advertises the show: _Amare_ , the paper reads _._ It’s a contemporary dance showcase that his friend, Junhui, is in, and Soonyoung has to admit that he’s intrigued.

 

His hair is a little rumpled from where he’s been running his hand through it while he waited in line at the box office and he can’t help but feel a little bit self-conscious about being alone in the audience. He pulls a cap out of his bag and puts it low on his head, avoiding people’s eyes. Old habits. Wonwoo wouldn’t have been too pleased to see his behaviour.

 

He settles deeper into the old red padding of the seat, trying not to bounce his knee and cause the chair to creak. He’s directly underneath the sound booth and can almost hear the static of the director’s headset through the thin glass. As a few more audience members trickle in he tries to focus his gaze straight ahead at the empty stage. He’s on a mission: leave the house at least once this week. His patience is rewarded when the lights go dim and the slow, lazy sound of a violin fills the room.

 

The sad music builds. A wide-shouldered, exceeding handsome brunette man steps out from the curtains, and Soonyoung would be lying if he said he didn’t immediately lean in a little at the sight. He has a sharp jawline, and keen, bright eyes. The dancer from Junhui’s company is wearing a plain black t-shirt with skinny jeans that show much more than Soonyoung is comfortable with, and Soonyoung thinks he spies the curl of black ink beneath the cuff on one toned and tensed arm. His pulse quickens for a moment; he barely registers it.

 

_He’s beautiful_ , he thinks, before he can stop himself. Again, he reminds himself that no one can hear his thoughts, unless they’re bonded, a theory him and Wonwoo had once tried to disprove through a week of heavy practice back in their senior year of university. It hadn’t worked of course—the most intense part of the pair bond, the ability to communicate with coherent thoughts, was meant for soulmates alone, even with the addition of physical touch that usually intensifies the connection. Wonwoo had gone as far as trying to kiss him, which he’d refused. The furthest he’d ever come in bonding with Wonwoo had been the slightest reading of the fuzziness of his mood, a small inclination to understand each other’s energy without the press of actual words. Soonyoung had assured him that that was most likely the result of their four years of cohabitation and their thirteen years of friendship rather than a fight against the pair bond theory. Now that they’re older, though, there’s still a comfortable buzz between them, even after Wonwoo’s moved out and left Soonyoung to a half-empty apartment.

 

Soonyoung’s seated far back, but it seems like the man on stage turns to look at him, gazing out at the audience as if he’s heard him. But the moment is fleeting, and Soonyoung chalks it up to chance. As the man starts a slow, sensual step towards the centre of the stage, Junhui and another dancer enter on the left, stealing Soonyoung’s gaze for a moment.  

 

Junhui is one of Soonyoung’s favourite dancers, and his dance partner and pair bond, Minghao, are something else together. It’s clear that they share a connection. The choreography is clever, with the first dancer from the night, slightly shorter than the other two, playing a role that doesn’t infringe on their story line or seek to steal their spotlight. Junhui and Minghao dance like they act in real life—passionately in love, deeply devoted to each other.

 

As more dancers enter it becomes clear that this is a love story, as Minghao tosses his black hair with the music and Junhui responds as the main character. But it’s the first brunette dancer that entirely captivates Soonyoung as he fills adjacent and supporting roles. As the performance wears on, Soonyoung can feel a smile on his face, unknowingly mirrored on the dancer’s.

 

If Soonyoung believed in pair bonds for himself—which he doesn’t—he might have been more curious, more questioning. As it is, Soonyoung watches the dancer and longs for something like happiness even though he knows that it would be wrong to ask for love.

 

It’s the first time he sees Lee Chan.

  
When the cast takes their bows, the man gets enthusiastic applause, smiling almost too wide. Outside of the show the smile is disarming in its innocence, like he can’t help but let the grin loose. The house lights are up, and beneath them he seems relaxed and almost relieved, boyishly charming. Soonyoung can’t stop staring at him, even when Junhui and Minghao take their bows. He quietly creeps out of the last row, and as he turns towards the aisle to sneak out he misses the eyes that stare at the back of his head, following him out.

 

 

\---

Later that night, Soonyoung makes his way over to Jeonghan’s place for his annual Christmas Eve party. At twenty-six, Soonyoung’s long parted ways with his toxic family and their judgements, and Jeonghan’s home has become a holiday refuge for all the lost boys Soonyoung surrounds himself with.

 

Soonyoung shudders as the cold air wraps around his neck. He pauses in the doorway of the old house before taking a deep breath and opening the door. A rush of warmth and the sound of delighted booming laughter overwhelm him in equal measure and he sniffles a little. Truthfully, he’s been in a slump, sleeping his free days away and making the trek to his lonely job at the florists’ in a haze of lethargy.

 

He’s been wallowing in the stress of finishing his manuscript whenever he had the chance. His publisher, Ren, had been on his case lately. Writing a book was a lot harder than he’d thought. And technically he _had_ left the house, earlier today, like he’d promised.

 

Soonyoung takes the first drink he’s given by a tipsy Junhui, trying to keep the garish red potion from touching his worn blue sweater when they hug. He’s grateful for the warmth of touch. Junhui giggles, already drunk either from the end of his endless dance rehearsals or from the questionable liquid in his cup.

 

Soonyoung hovers awkwardly around the house for a while, letting the buzz of alcohol settle in his veins. He takes the second drink from a brown-haired Jisoo, dodging out of the kitchen where he fails to make small talk with Jisoo’s other guests he doesn’t know, strays and friends him and Jeonghan have collected over the year, and lets himself be pushed into his favourite battered velvet armchair in the corner of the living room by a surly Wonwoo (“Ya, why are you being so awkward? Ugh, just sit, I’ll get Junhui— _I said sit!_ ”), where he nurses his drink in silence. He’s ready to drink himself into a cloud of haziness, arm casually slung around the red velvet backing, when Junhui appears, pulling along a brunette guy with broad shoulders and tight muscles underneath a white t-shirt.

 

The dancer.

_It’s you,_ Soonyoung thinks immediately.

 

The man pauses, dumbfounded, and Soonyoung hears a voice he’s never heard before, rich and charming.

 

_What did you just say?_

 

Soonyoung knits his brow in confusion, before things catch up. He’d _heard_ him.

 

The air stills between them. The sounds of the party fall away, and it’s just Soonyoung and the beautiful man from before. They take identical breaths, feeling the brush of each other’s presence instinctively as their bodies meet in the tempestuous, ephemeral space between them. The bond tries to establish itself almost immediately, and Soonyoung’s hands start to tingle.

 

Junhui’s looking between them, clearly too drunk to catch on. _This isn’t real_ , Soonyoung thinks to himself. He hasn’t been _looking_ for anyone, hasn’t been looking for _years._ He’s not ready yet. It’s too much.

There’s still a chance that it’s all just random. A temporary connection between strangers, a miracle one-off that closes down on itself and collapses into a chance bond that cannot be recovered. But before Soonyoung can comprehend what’s going on, Junhui shoves the man into Soonyoung’s armchair (which is definitely made for one and a half normal-shouldered people at _most)_ and pushes him firmly down when the man makes to get up, some semblance of wonder and confusion in his eyes. And when their bodies touch—Soonyoung’s side against the man’s—there’s two identical intakes of breath as a rush of warmth runs along each of their spines. It’s immediately comforting, and Soonyoung blinks extra-long, trying to process the mental and physical sensations taking over.

 

The man is still _staring_ at Soonyoung, and Soonyoung can feel a lurch in his heart, because when was the last time anyone looked at him, _really_ looked at him, like that?

 

Junhui blows his greyish blonde hair out of his eyes, looking seriously at the man and putting two hands on his face.

 

“Channie.” Junhui starts, slurring a little. He bites his full lip for a second before continuing.

 

“Channie. I need you to stay _right here_. There is someone _important_ that you have to meet.”

 

The man shoots Soonyoung a deep look that Soonyoung can’t interpret, and Soonyoung can already sense the man’s thoughts forming questions, still abstract, as the man grapples with a myriad of thoughts. It’s obvious that he’s never controlled his thoughts before, that he’s as open as they come. Soonyoung can already feel himself slipping into him, and for a moment he’s entirely too okay with it all. He barely catches himself from falling into the brilliant purity of the man’s consciousness.

 

As soon as Junhui leaves, Soonyoung jumps to his feet and makes to walk away, to put physical space between them. In the seconds they disconnect, Soonyoung’s body shudders, immediately lonely and searching, but the man grabs his hand and there’s a coursing, electric spark that travels between them once more. The man raises his eyebrows, wets his pink lips to say something out loud, and closes his mouth again.

 

_I heard you_? Soonyoung hears in his mind. The man who’s got such wide shoulders and a sharp jawline that Soonyoung could write books about—is concentrating hard, but there’s wonder in his tone. This is new to both of them. Soonyoung winces.

 

“You didn’t.” Soonyoung says out loud, shaking off the hand the man has on him. The connection falters again, leaving him confused and cooling. His voice is nervous, and he can’t look the man in the eye. He isn’t prepared for this. He doesn’t believe in pair bonds.

 

The man smiles, wide, like he’s just seen the sun.

 

_My name is Lee Chan,_ he says. Soonyoung can feel how open his mind is, the pressure of a presence edging his own, wanting to connect. It’s bright, more than he’s used to. It’s too much. Soonyoung’s brain is a minefield—he’d accepted long, long ago that he would never do anyone the disservice of having to take refuge in it.

 

He isn’t used to the unfamiliar feeling of another presence near his, the intrusiveness of someone else’s voice in his head. Soonyoung inhales sharply. A bond doesn’t mean anything other than his own biology betraying him. He still has a choice, he isn’t subject to the whims of his body. He steels himself, putting up careful mental walls, pushing his thoughts closed.

 

Chan frowns at him, senses immediately what he’s doing, and then gets a look of understanding in his eyes. He jumps to his feet, looking lost for a second, withdraws all probing from Soonyoung’s mind as Soonyoung makes to escape the living room. He darts forward into the hallway, past a staircase, and the man catches his hand again. 

 

“Hey—wait, I’m sorry. That was rude of me, I should have asked first before I did that.” Chan says, following after him tentatively, holding on. The spark courses through Soonyoung again, and he grits his teeth against the onslaught. Chan’s still got a slightly dumbfounded look on his face, like he’s seeing something he can’t believe, and Soonyoung is still, awkwardly, afraid and silent. He can’t have this conversation right now, not at this party with people pressed like sardines all around him. He looks back at Chan, and then makes a decision, letting go of his hand and running up the stairs into what he thinks is Jisoo and Jeonghan’s bedroom.

 

It’s neatly made, everything clearly in place. He closes the door behind him. Soonyoung sits down on Jisoo’s bed, and holds his head in his hands, trying to make sense of the cacophonous thoughts running through his mind. He breathes in once, and then out again.

 

He feels the pull of the bond already, the tentative flickerings within his mind. But he knows. He makes the decision in a heartbeat. A pair bond will never turn out well for him. He doesn’t want to end up like his parents, miserable and awful to each other.

 

He cannot bond with this beautiful stranger. He must stop this from going any further.

  
It shouldn’t be an issue, though, to talk Chan out of furthering or pursuing the bond. Soonyoung looks down at himself, at the worn out blue of his favourite hoodie, and the light jeans he’s been wearing for years, a little looser on his hips than before. He thinks of the way the people at the party had glanced over him—could they see his depression? Was it written in the bags under his eyes? He knows that that’s asking too much, being too selfish, to impose his mind’s whims on others. Surely Chan can already see it.

 

It shouldn’t be hard to convince Chan at all, if he’s even still thinking of Soonyoung after their meeting downstairs.

 

There’s a knock at the door, and Soonyoung doesn’t really register the sound until the door opens and Minghao is gently closing it behind him. He crosses over to Soonyoung, sits down beside him. Minghao takes a look at the tortured expression on Soonyoung’s face with concern.

 

“What happened? Chan said someone wasn’t feeling well. Are you okay?”

 

Soonyoung looks down at his hands, and then back up at Minghao, contemplating if he can lie his way out of this one. It’s Junhui he’s better friends with, but in the last year Minghao’s become a constant presence in his life.

 

Strangely, Soonyoung trusts him. “I think Chan and I are bonding. Bonded. Soulmates, whatever you want to call it.”

 

Minghao looks shocked for a moment, but understands immediately.

 

“You don’t want to be bonded?” he asks.

 

“I don’t believe in pair bonds, Minghao,” Soonyoung says back, voice wavering a little, “I can’t ask that of anyone.”

 

Minghao looks thoughtful for a second. “Chan is a really good person, hyung.”

 

Soonyoung looks at him. He’s touched his mind, he already _knows_ that. Everything about Chan’s thoughts is a pure, shining white.

 

“I’m not ready for anything. I barely have my own life together.” Soonyoung’s voice is solemn. Minghao nods, even though Soonyoung knows he wants to disagree.

 

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. But you should talk to him.” Minghao puts a hand on his back and holds it there for a few moments. Soonyoung relaxes a little. Yes, he’s going to have to talk to Chan.

 

The music is still playing in the background, the thrum of bass and voices. There’s footsteps outside the door, and Soonyoung feels a surge of white light, like an ocean wave, settle over him. Someone gently knocks, and Soonyoung knows it’s Chan.

 

Chan knocks again, and his voice comes out slightly muffled. “Hey. Can we talk? I just—I don’t even know your name.”

 

Minghao crosses over to open the door. Chan looks worried and nervous about something, and when the door opens he looks only briefly at Minghao before he turns to Soonyoung again.  Soonyoung feels it—the insistent tug, the bond’s pull, however faint. Chan’s eyes are burning with something, and Soonyoung barely notices as Minghao leaves the room.

  
Chan comes to sit on the edge of the bed. He keeps his distance from Soonyoung, but his fingers twitch as if he’s trying to hold himself back. Soonyoung keeps his voice low.

 

“It’s Soonyoung. My name.” He says.

 

Chan nods and gives him a small smile. “Soonyoung. Hyung?”

 

Soonyoung nods. Chan must be a few years younger than him, looks like he’s been growing into his wide frame at last. “I’m not very… this is new to me. The touching, it’s overwhelming.” Soonyoung says, swallowing. It’s true. The only person allowed near his thoughts is Wonwoo, and that’s only because he’s sure Wonwoo would skin him if he tried to stop being friends with him.

 

Chan looks relieved. “Hey, it’s new to me too. I’m sorry I was so abrupt, I should have asked for your consent.”

 

Soonyoung nods. He appreciates the apology a lot. “Thank you.”

 

They’re both silent for a moment, a heartbeat. Soonyoung still feels too calm, assuaged as his body is just by being in Chan’s presence. He’s a stranger, Soonyoung reminds himself.

 

Chan’s looking at him again. Soonyoung can feel himself blush. He clears his throat once.

 

“What do you, uh. What do you want? From me?”

 

The look on Chan’s face is taken aback, but then it softens. “I would like to get to know you, I think.”

 

“I don’t believe in bonding.” Soonyoung blurts out.

 

Chan looks surprised, and knits his brow in confusion. “But you felt it, didn’t you?”

 

“Yes.” Soonyoung admits.

 

“Are you already… with someone?” Chan trails off. It’s an appropriate, awkward question. There are people who love without the bond, who’s bonds never reach that of a true pair, but are content to build a life together. It’s not uncommon, especially when a partner passes. However, it would be rare for a person to remain with someone when they know and meet their pair bond. Soonyoung knows that. He thinks of his own parents, briefly, and remembers that even when people _are_ bonded, not everything goes as planned. 

 

Soonyoung feels the words trip over his tongue. “I’m not… I don’t want to be bonded. To anyone.”

 

His words come out harsher than expected. Chan leans back, gives him a searching look, and there’s a moment of hurt in his eyes. But it’s gone quickly, and when he looks at Soonyoung his expression is kind.

  
“Alright.”

 

“It’s not personal, I promise you.” Soonyoung adds quickly.

 

“Then what is it?”

 

“I just have a lot going on.”

 

Chan purses his lips, in thought. After a moment, his words come out softly. “Can I see you again?”

 

Soonyoung feels a little bit of relief, for a moment, before he senses something faint through their connection. Longing? Disappointment? He doesn’t respond right away, and Chan continues.

 

“We can be friends.” For a moment, Soonyoung’s mind skips forward, imagining a scenario where Chan enters his life like Wonwoo, a friend he can rely on in times of need. Even that seems unbearable—Wonwoo’s already in too deep, but Chan? Chan doesn’t know him at all.

  
When Soonyoung hesitates, Chan speaks up again.

 

“Give me your phone.” Chan says. Soonyoung creases his brow, but complies. Chan types quickly, and when he hands his phone back Soonyoung looks down to see that he’s left his number in his contacts. He looks like he’s got a waterfall of thoughts behind his eyes when he looks at Soonyoung again, almost challenging him. Soonyoung tilts his head.

 

Chan gets up, puts his hands in the pockets of his jeans as he stands. “In case you change your mind,” he says, this time with the barest smile. Then he turns, and walks out of the room, leaving Soonyoung with his thoughts, and a cooling sense of warmth as he feels Chan get further away.

 

\---

 

He doesn’t see Chan when he returns to the living room, but he can still sense the man is nearby, perhaps in the kitchen with others. The feeling lingers in his body, the urge to find him, and Soonyoung resists because he has to, honestly. He stands by his decision, which is for the best.

 

As partygoers start to leave, the rooms become smaller until everyone who’s left is seated around the small table in the living room. It’s just Wonwoo and Soonyoung, Jisoo and Jeonghan, Junhui, Minghao, and Chan. When Chan enters the room, every one of Soonyoung’s senses is intensified. He takes a seat across from Soonyoung on a small couch. Soonyoung can feel the pull of the bond still, even with his focus on other things, and he tries not to stare too much. He joins in on the conversation sporadically, tucked as he is into Wonwoo’s side on the floor, and he can sense the confusion as well as see it on Chan’s face as he glances at the arm Wonwoo’s slung around his frame. Soonyoung almost pushes it away, but decides against it. He isn’t trying to lie to Chan, he’d been honest—there’s no room for a pair bond in his life. When their eyes meet, Chan’s brow knits for a second, before Minghao says something that draws his attention away.

 

Soonyoung is quiet for the rest of the evening. He listens to the sound of Chan’s laughter, bright and loud, and he can tell that Wonwoo and the others are a little enamoured with him. He learns that Chan is a dancer and a teacher, that he lives somewhere near Wonwoo. Jeonghan adjusts a Santa hat where it clashes with his reddish-dyed locks and positively dotes on him, pouring him drinks and offering him the Christmas cookies Jisoo’s baked. Junhui is the most drunk, pulling Chan down onto the floor with him, while Minghao laughs and ruffles his hair. Soonyoung thinks about his manuscript, thinks about how he’ll be spending Christmas day alone this year, and he thinks about happy endings. Chan looks at him often, trying to catch his eye, and Soonyoung looks down, or at Wonwoo, or tries not to notice the glances that Minghao’s shooting him. They’re across the coffee table now, and the physical distance is small and miles apart.

 

Eventually, everyone starts to tire with drunken contentment. It’s Soonyoung’s typical Christmas Eve, to be honest. Wonwoo leans his head on Soonyoung’s slightly lower one, and Soonyoung can feel the faint outline of his weariness tickling at him. He moves to put a hand on Wonwoo’s knee to let him know he’s noticed—an old habit of theirs—and freezes when he notices Chan look at the action and then turn away.

 

Wonwoo doesn’t notice, but Soonyoung is still relieved when he moves to get up, taking Soonyoung’s hand and pulling him up with him. He nods once at Soonyoung, who reciprocates.

 

“I think Soonyoung and I are going to head out, guys.” Wonwoo says, stumbling a little as he moves past the centre of the room. Jeonghan looks over at him from where he’s got his legs swung over Jisoo.

 

“Are we still doing New Years’ Eve at your place?” He asks, and Wonwoo nods.

 

“Yeah. We might even be able to see some fireworks from the roof, I think.”

  
Jeonghan gives him a thumbs up and Junhui nods his head with enthusiasm.

 

Soonyoung walks to the corner of the room, grabbing two near-identical black coats. He holds one out for Wonwoo to shrug on, before pulling his on after. He roots around his pockets for mittens. When he turns back, Chan’s looking at him again, this time like he wants to say something.

 

Wonwoo quirks his eyebrows for a brief second, but it goes unnoticed, before he turns to Chan.

 

“We’d love to have you too, Chan. You should come. Bring your partner. It’s a small apartment but we’ll make it work.”

 

A strange look passes over Chan’s face before he’s nodding and smiling, so quickly that Soonyoung would almost believe he imagined it. “I’ll have to check if I’m free. Is it alright if I come alone?”

 

Minghao laughs shortly, but adds in in a mischievous tone, “Of course you can come alone. I’ll find you someone to kiss at midnight.”

 

Chan blushes a little as Jisoo and Jeonghan laugh again.

 

“That won’t be necessary. But thanks for the offer.”

 

Soonyoung’s wrapped a scarf around his face by this time, having steadfastly avoided eye contact, but when he looks back to wave goodbye Chan looks right at him.

 

“It was nice meeting you.” He says earnestly, and Soonyoung’s heart does a small, traitorous little flip inside his body. Chan’s eyes are sparkling, like he’s in on a secret. Soonyoung feels the tug of the bond again, a sudden onslaught of affection, that he quickly tamps down.

 

“It was nice meeting you too.” Soonyoung finally gets out. Wonwoo gives him half a glance before starting to walk towards the door.

 

Chan follows them a little until he’s close, in Soonyoung’s space.

 

“I guess I’ll see you soon.” Chan adds. Soonyoung blushes, waves once more at his friends, and walks out with Wonwoo.

 

Once they’ve put some distance between the house and made their way towards the train station, Soonyoung can finally feel the urge of the bond lessen. They walk in silence for a while, before Wonwoo speaks up.

 

“Chan’s a really nice guy.” He says, absently. Soonyoung, a step behind him, nods.

 

“Yeah, he seems kind.”

 

It’s silent for a bit longer. They go down a broken escalator a few levels, ending up on a near-empty platform, and eventually board a train going east. Soonyoung settles into the seats while Wonwoo stands near him, clutching a railing.

  
“Is there a reason,” Wonwoo starts again, this time with a smirk on his face, “why he couldn’t keep his eyes off you?”

 

Soonyoung is immensely grateful for the scarf still wound around his face, because it obscures his blush.

 

“Nope.”

 

Wonwoo laughs. “You’re allowed to date, Soonyoung. If he’s interested—”

 

“—he’s not. Interested, I mean.” Soonyoung lies, quickly.

 

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow, but lowers it. His voice gets kinder. “I just think it might be nice. To see someone, even if it’s casual. You need to get out more.”

 

Soonyoung snorts. “I need to finish my book.”

 

Wonwoo shrugs, letting the matter drop. “You don’t have to hole away for a year and emerge with a masterpiece. You’re a person. You deserve to spend time with people who like you.”

 

Wonwoo puts a finger on Soonyoung’s nose, the only part of his face that peeks out beneath the scarf and hood of his jacket. There’s a slight warmth that spreads between them. Soonyoung feels appeased.

 

“I know. Thank you for saying that.”

 

When they reach Wonwoo’s stop, he pulls Soonyoung out of the car with him. Soonyoung makes an indignant noise, but complies.

 

“Stay with us tonight. I can’t let you wake up on Christmas alone.” Soonyoung is touched by Wonwoo’s thoughtfulness.

 

 “Won’t Mingyu mind that you’re spending your first Christmas together with me around?”

 

Wonwoo laughs. “Mingyu’s the one who suggested it. He should be home from work by the time we get home. I’m sure he’s already made your bed.”

 

By the time they get to Wonwoo’s apartment, Mingyu is indeed home and does, in fact, have their office futon ready for Soonyoung to crash on. Soonyoung gives him a sleepy hug first, before turning away as Mingyu pulls Wonwoo in for a tired kiss. Soonyoung is used to seeing their very minimal PDA, but it can still be awkward for him. It’s nice just seeing Mingyu, though, because over the years the three of them shared Wonwoo and Soonyoung’s old apartment together before Mingyu had eventually moved in.

 

Wonwoo and Mingyu had met two years ago, when Soonyoung and Wonwoo were both twenty-four and bumming around Gangnam one day watching old SHINee concert footage at the mall. When they’d gone to get ice cream, a tall, handsome man with canine teeth had handed Wonwoo a cone, only to fumble and drop it at Wonwoo’s feet when their hands brushed. Soonyoung had watched as the tall stranger had snapped his head back up and glared, responding to Wonwoo’s thoughts and saying out loud that he _wasn’t_ an idiot.

 

Wonwoo disappears in the bathroom for a second, and comes back with a small bottle of pills that he hands to Soonyoung. Soonyoung smiles, grateful for Wonwoo’s thoughtfulness. Wonwoo’s kept his medication on him for years, even when they lived together, and Soonyoung is no less touched right now. When he walks into the tiny office room one of Wonwoo’s largest white t-shirts and faded sweats are already lying on the foot of the bed. He smiles softly, let’s the tension from earlier in the night fade a little.

 

When he climbs into bed eventually the last thing that lingers on his mind is the feeling of Chan’s fingers on his wrists, and the intensity of his thoughts touching his.

 

\---

 

A few days later, Soonyoung wakes up from a nightmare, one where his parents are arguing on Christmas Eve, except this time the tree starts to fall and Soonyoung is six, unable to hold it up, crushing his child’s frame, as his parents continue to argue. He startles himself, breathes steadily to calm his racing heart, and thinks about seeing if Wonwoo is up before he remembers that Wonwoo doesn’t live with him anymore.

 

He gets up anyway, decides to be productive. He’s still on holiday time, and his hands, usually callused from handling thick scissors and rough plants stems at the shop, are grateful. He passes by Wonwoo’s empty room and curls into the tiny, worn out couch he’s set his laptop at. He hums a little as he flicks through his research, opening up subway maps and word documents divided neatly into chaptered parts.

 

Nothing is ever close to being done.

 

He sighs, and decides to delve into a chapter he’s been finding particularly arduous. After an hour of attempting to re-write two pages of text, he leans back and snaps his laptop shut. Soonyoung breathes deeply, counts to ten, then puts it aside.

 

He’s been having trouble lately. The worst of the holidays—Christmas where his parents don’t call for the eighth year in a row, work where suddenly everyone needs winter-grown roses, the streets crowded in couples—is largely over, especially since he’s been able to hole up at home for so much of it. He had imagined that he would be getting a fair bit of writing done, but so far it’s been slow. The only thing that will really be a challenge still is Wonwoo’s New Years’ Eve party, which he knows he will have to attend for fear of losing a limb.

 

Almost unbidden, Soonyoung thinks of Chan, of the way his jawline smooths out, the hue of his brown hair and the glint of stage lights, the faint black ink he’d seen up close peeking on a toned forearm. He shakes his head physically as his body responds with a lingering ache, and telling himself that it would be impossible to miss someone he does not know.

 

Soonyoung spends the day in and out of inspiration, but he’s been told that real writers learn to write as a habit, and this is him doing that. Eventually, though, he get’s fatigue just from looking at the blank white of his screen and the needle-like text that he closes his eyes and tries to rest.

 

He’s struck with a sense of restlessness.

 

Soonyoung decides to get dressed and, to his own surprise, leave the house for something that isn’t work for once. He pulls on thick socks for his worn winter boots, a plain black shirt, worn jeans, his large coat, and grabs his favourite hat, a red beanie he’d stolen from Wonwoo over three years ago. His hair looks a little like he’s just rolled out of bed, but he’s just going to grab a drink or two in a warm bar before heading back home.  

 

At the last minute, he grabs his notebook and pen, shoving them into a small satchel, just in case. He locks the door and heads out into the cold, pulling on gloves.

 

He walks all the way to Hongik University Station, and then keep walking, skipping the buses and revelling in the chill. If the summer is too hot and the winter too cold, Soonyoung still prefers the chill to the sweat and humidity of the summer months. He knows it might be noisy for this time of night in Hongdae, but he doesn’t want to be alone in a hole-in-the-wall bar, or worse, alone at home, for once.

 

He walks down brightly lit streets until he finds a side street that leads down for a bit, and then up the stairs, to a quieter bar on the fourth floor above a café and record shop, away from the young students and couples plaguing the main streets. It’s one of his favourites now, a place where he’d once come with Mingyu, but now likes to sit at alone for the perfect mixture of noise and solitude.

 

Soonyoung settles himself down in a corner with a beer, grateful that the bar is relatively uncrowded for the evening. After a few sips, he pulls out his notebook, beginning to pen some of his thoughts and vaguely freewriting.

 

As he finishes his beer, he’s surprised to find that he’s got a couple pages worth of new ideas and writing that he’ll be able to work on or add to his manuscript. He’s feeling pleased with himself, smiling, when a vague warmth settles over him. A little startled, he looks around him.

 

Lee Chan is walking in to the bar with another guy, and it doesn’t appear like he’s seen Soonyoung yet. Soonyoung’s heart skips a beat, and he tries to control his thoughts upon seeing the brunette man again. He already feels his body’s response—the vague yearning that he pushes down until it’s a background buzz.

 

The effect doesn’t go unnoticed on Chan. From the moment he walks into the bar, he’s got a surprised look on his face, searching for the source of his body’s change. When he does see Soonyoung, he breaks in a brilliant, breathtaking smile.

 

He walks over with his friend in tow, and stops near Soonyoung. The proximity puts Soonyoung’s heart in overdrive for a few seconds.

 

“Hey,” Chan says, “How are you, hyung?”

  
Soonyoung looks at Chan, and from this angle he can see every one of Chan’s eyelashes as he gazes up at him.

 

“I’m good.” Soonyoung answers. Chan nods. The man next to him has a wide grin on his face, and he reaches out to Soonyoung with bright eyes.

 

“Hi! I’m Seokmin!” He says, and Soonyoung blinks and gets his hand shaken very enthusiastically.

 

“Soonyoung.”

 

“Oh!” Seokmin looks at him with more scrutiny, the grin sliding off his face, frowning slightly, “ _You’re_ the cute one from the party Channie went to.”

 

Seokmin breaks out into a grin again, looking happy with himself. Soonyoung feels his cheeks heat up.

 

Chan swats his arm. “Hyung, _please_.”

 

Seokmin has the decency to look a little embarrassed, but mostly he looks smug. “Sorry!”

 

Chan gives him an exasperated look full of love, before turning back to Soonyoung. He raises an eyebrow as Seokmin wanders off to the bar.

 

“Are you here alone?” Chan asks, glancing at Soonyoung’s empty beer glass and open notebook.

 

Soonyoung nods. “I wanted to get out of the house.”

 

Chan has a slight smile on his face. “You really didn’t text me, huh?” Soonyoung must look shocked, because Chan laughs again.

 

Soonyoung’s cheeks warm. “I told you I don’t believe in soul—in the bond.”

 

Chan looks unperturbed. “I’m a pretty good friend, you know.” He grins at Soonyoung, and Soonyoung feels himself blush again. Chan leans forward over the table, looking back to see Seokmin on his way with a pitcher and glasses. “And Seokmin-hyung was wrong. I didn’t call you cute.”

 

He leans in until his lips are at Soonyoung’s ear. “I called you beautiful.”

 

Soonyoung pulls back hastily, feeling his entire body flush with warmth—this time, from embarrassment. Chan looks pleased with himself as he straightens up. Seokmin arrives next to him, and Chan gives him an innocent smile.

 

“I’ll be seeing you, hyung.” He says to Soonyoung, before winking. He takes the glasses from Seokmin and walks away to an empty table. Seokmin waves cheerily as they go.

 

Soonyoung stays seated for a while. He can still feel Chan’s presence nearby on the edge of his consciousness, a buzz. If he tries to write now, it’ll probably be impossible.

 

He decides to order himself another beer. As he makes his way back to his corner table he makes the mistake of looking at Chan across the room. The younger boy is starring at him with a smile on his face, and he makes a motion to beckon him over. Soonyoung hastily shakes his head and goes back to his table.

 

Soonyoung doesn’t believe in pair bonds. He _doesn’t_. So he can’t really explain why he gathers his notebook, tucks it into his bag, and makes his way over to Chan. The rational part of his brain is telling him this is bad idea, but he carefully ignores it. There’s no harm in being friends, right?

 

Chan looks pleased when Soonyoung slides into the booth next to the other man, Seokmin, not wanting to risk touching Chan’s arm. Chan’s eyes flicker over the collar of his shirt, quicker than he can really confirm it happens at all.

 

“Nice of you to join us.” Chan says with a smile. “Seokmin was just saying that you looked lonely over there.”

 

Soonyoung scoffs. “I’m a writer. Loneliness is sort of part of the job description.”

 

Seokmin perks up. “What do you write?”

 

Soonyoung bites his lip. “Right now, mostly fiction. But in another lifetime I was a creative writing major, so I’ve dabbled in everything. I’m supposed to be finishing a book.”

 

Chan looks thoughtful. “Do you love it?”

 

Soonyoung is taken aback. Does he love writing? This manuscript has been giving him grief for years, but at the end of the day he gets to do what he loves, doesn’t he? Chan’s watching him with an intense look in his eyes.

 

“I do.” Soonyoung finally says. And it’s true. He might have to work two jobs and take as much freelancing as he can, but he’s stable. The florist doesn’t pay terribly. His other students are always eager for class, too. He could—and has—been much worse off.

 

Chan seems happy with the answer. Seokmin interjects.

 

“Channie’s the same way. There’s nothing that would stop him from dancing.”

 

Soonyoung is interested. “What is it that you love about dance?”

 

Chan purses his lips for a moment. “I think I love the freedom that comes with complete control of my body. Like, after this long, I can tell my body to move and it just _does_. And if it doesn’t, I just have to work harder.”

 

Soonyoung can’t help the smile that comes across his face. What he would give for that control. Most days he can’t trust his own brain to produce enough serotonin.

 

“That’s great.” He feels a flickering between them for a second, almost like Chan wants to reach out, but he seems to stop himself.

 

“I could teach you, you know.” Chan adds.

 

“Teach me? How to dance?” Soonyoung scoffs. “I don’t think so.”

 

Seokmin looks excited. “Channie is a great teacher.”

 

Chan nods resolutely. “I guarantee satisfaction.” He smirks a little, and Soonyoung feels his cheeks redden. He coughs a little on his beer, and Seokmin laughs.

 

Soonyoung feels himself relaxing. Chan is confident and kind, teasing Seokmin often. Soonyoung can feel that Seokmin is a close friend, and it’s nice that neither of them have any trouble including him in their conversation. He listens to the sound of Chan’s voice, the way he speaks too fast sometimes in his excitement. He listens to Chan’s laugh and his spirits lift just by being in proximity. Soonyoung is curious, more than he should be.

 

“Chan, how old are you?”

 

Chan gives him a sneaky look. “How old do you think I am?”

 

“You still have hopes and dreams, so you’re at least twenty-one. But please don’t actually be twenty-one.” Soonyoung adds. No one that’s his age would be even close to Chan’s levels of enthusiasm and cheerfulness.

  
Seokmin wiggles his eyebrows and Chan laughs. “I’m twenty-three.” He admits finally. Soonyoung winces a little.

 

“I feel like an old man,” he admits, “since I’m nearing thirty.”

 

Chan coughs on his beer, and Seokmin’s eyebrows raise dramatically. “You’re almost thirty? Jesus, drop that skin care routine.”

 

Soonyoung nods solemnly for a moment. He leans forward, conspiratorially. “Technically, twenty-six rounds up to thirty.” He gives Chan a mischievous look.

 

Chan stops coughing and glares at him. Soonyoung laughs, feeling his body let go of it’s tension.

 

Soonyoung is having a good time. Chan looks him right in the eye when he speaks to him and Soonyoung can admit that he might be a little, tiny bit affected by the time he checks his watch and realizes he should head out for the night over an hour later. Seokmin looks sad to see him go as well, eyes creasing up at him when he says goodbye. Before Soonyoung can respond, Seokmin gives him a joyful hug.

 

Chan is more reserved. He tilts his head at Soonyoung, almost as if to ask for permission, and Soonyoung knows he should say no but moves forward just slightly. Chan casually draws him in for only a brief moment, but that’s all it takes, really, for the bond to intensify for a few seconds.

 

From the moment their arms brush, Soonyoung feels a flash of the tone of Chan’s thoughts, a heat that passes through him quickly. He tempers the feeling, but his cheeks are flushed by the time he lets go. It’s that same feeling again, something like longing. Soonyoung is still baffled. Chan gives him a searching look as he heads to the stairwell.

 

“You should text me.” Chan finally says, half a smile on his face. Seokmin is busy on his phone for a second, and doesn’t seem to be listening. Soonyoung hesitates, and bites his lip in thought.

 

“Okay.”  He finally gets out. The smile on Chan’s face is boundless.

 

He curses at himself the whole way home.

 

\---

 

Soonyoung spends the next few days in the lead up to Wonwoo’s party between a few shifts at the florist and frantic, marathon writing sessions holed up in his apartment working on his book. He finishes twice as much as he expects, surfacing only to respond to Wonwoo’s texts every now and then, and sooner than later it’s already New Years’ Eve. He stops by the liquor store, grabs two bottles of mid-priced champagne, and heads over to Wonwoo and Mingyu’s apartment. It’s on his way over that he realizes he hasn’t texted Chan at all. But his spare thoughts have been wandering to the boy—thinking about the heat that they’re shared, and wondering if he’s made the right choice.

 

Wonwoo engulfs him in a hug when he enters, taking the cold bottles from him and putting his coat in the closet. Soonyoung raises his eyebrows and Wonwoo shrugs, tilting his head towards what must be Mingyu’s direction. Soonyoung’s arrived early, so the living room and kitchen are both empty. Mingyu laughs from another room, and when he emerges he gives Soonyoung a once over.

 

“You look nice, hyung!” He says, heading over to an overladen island kitchen to pour Soonyoung a glass of red wine. Soonyoung feels his ears go pink at the compliment.

 

He _is_ dressed nicely. He’s wearing a large, cream-coloured cashmere sweater that Junhui and Minghao had given him on his birthday over the least worn pair of jeans that he owns. Wonwoo sneaks up behind him, placing his head on Soonyoung’s shoulder.

 

“Are you trying to impress Chan?”

 

Soonyoung makes a distressed noise and shakes him off. Mingyu’s at the island again, this time chopping some vegetables and putting them on a plate. He doesn’t say anything out loud, but Soonyoung can see a smirk spread across Mingyu’s face. They’re clearly communicating privately, and Soonyoung’s suspicions are confirmed when Mingyu gives him a kind look.

 

“I heard he’s a very nice boy, hyung.”

 

“I never said he wasn’t.” Soonyoung responds, taking a seat on a stool. He should be more riled up, to be honest.

 

“Well that settles it, then,” Wonwoo declares, coming up behind Soonyoung again and putting a hand on his shoulder, “You’re going to kiss at midnight.”

 

Soonyoung does shove him away this time, and Mingyu laughs. Wonwoo drops the matter after that.

 

Eventually, their friends start trickling in one by one, each of them making the trek up Wonwoo and Mingyu’s delicate staircase. Jeonghan settles himself near the speakers, and Soonyoung goes to bug him about songs for a while. They argue until they settle on a Red Velvet album, placated by Jisoo’s promise to change it once Jeonghan is distracted.

 

Junhui and Minghao arrive not long after with a case of beer in hand. Mingyu gives them a hug, and Soonyoung waves from the couch where’s he’s moved himself.

 

Soonyoung is watching the performances of a Gayo with Minghao on Wonwoo’s television when his heart rate picks up, and he knows immediately that Chan is at the door. He gets up off the couch and moves to unlock it before Chan has a chance to knock.

 

Chan looks surprised to see him, but smiles knowingly.

 

“Thanks for letting me in, hyung.” Soonyoung nods and let’s Chan step inside. He doesn’t know why it is that seeing the younger man makes him so tongue-tied. He’s relieved when Mingyu comes around the corner of the entryway, beaming.

 

“Welcome! You must be Chan. Thank you so much for coming.” Mingyu takes Chan’s coat from him and hangs it as he continues. “Wonwoo told me _all_ about you.”

 

Chan laughs and gives Soonyoung a questioning look. “Did he now?”

 

“Yes. Says you were very charming.” Mingyu adds, wiggling his eyebrows. Soonyoung rolls his eyes.

 

“I’m only charming when I want to be. Right, hyung?” Chan adds, smirking at Soonyoung. Soonyoung blushes.  
  
“You’re a menace.” He whispers under Mingyu’s laughter.

 

Chan follows Soonyoung into the kitchen, and Soonyoung pours him a drink. Chan takes it with careful hands, but when they brush slightly, Soonyoung shakes. It’s heady and he’s already had his first glass of wine on a nearly empty stomach. He takes in Chan’s appearance and wants to weep, just a little.

 

Chan has his dark hair pushed back from his forehead, and he’s balanced delicate silver-framed glasses on his face. He’s in a smart, light green button down, rolled at the sleeves, showing off toned arms once more, over dark jeans. Everything looks like money to Soonyoung, who’s used to wearing three-year-old plaid shirts. This cashmere sweater is the nicest thing he owns by far.

 

He reminds himself that he doesn’t need to impress Chan, since he’s the one who’s made the choice not to follow through with the bond. He forcefully pushes down the growing admiration he has for the man.

 

“You still haven’t texted me, you know.” Chan says conversationally, once he’s had a deep drink of his beer.

 

Minghao is in the kitchen now, grabbing a bottle opener and a beer from the fridge. He’s facing Chan’s back and gives Soonyoung a severely judgemental look from where he’s overheard Chan. Soonyoung gives him half a glance before Minghao walks away.

 

Soonyoung stumbles a little. “Ah, sorry. I just got really caught up with work.”

 

Chan doesn’t look fazed, and maybe Soonyoung appreciates that a little too much.

 

“You’ll give in eventually,” he says, then adds, “me and Seokmin have a bet.”

 

Soonyoung’s eyes widen. He isn’t sure how he’s supposed to respond to this. “Are you supposed to tell me that?” he says in some disbelief.

  
Chan smirks. “Of course. You see, Soonyoung-hyung,” he drops his voice to a whisper, “I’m not used to losing.”

 

Soonyoung closes his eyes and swallows, and when he opens them again Chan looks very pleased with himself. Soonyoung knows he’s blushing.

 

Jeonghan walks into the kitchen and squeals upon seeing Chan, moving Soonyoung aside to hug the shorter man. Chan laughs, let’s himself be manhandled by Jeonghan’s slight frame. Soonyoung smiles and moves into the living room with a new drink. Minghao lets him settle back onto Mingyu’s couch, but in a weird déjà vu Jeonghan pushes Chan down next to him. Their arms brush against each other, the side of Soonyoung’s leg touching Chan’s, and he feels… a wash of yellow sunlight, winter sparkle, where they meet. It’s different, and Soonyoung has to work hard to dismiss the feeling.

 

Chan looks at him apologetically, but when Soonyoung tilts his head in a placating gesture he looks relieved.

 

The evening is nice, relaxed as Junhui gets drunker and Jeonghan plays increasingly lascivious music. Mingyu is an easy-going host, refilling drinks and offering food he’s probably spent all day preparing. Soonyoung feels warm and flushed from head to toe, almost misses the small noise Chan makes when Mingyu leans over and kisses Wonwoo, once, on the cheek, between conversation.

 

Chan looks at Soonyoung when this happens, and Soonyoung quirks his eyebrows, as if to say _I told you so._ Chan shrugs a little in response, a gesture of _don’t blame me_ , and Soonyoung laughs.

 

When Soonyoung looks to his left he sees Minghao rolling his eyes at him, just a little.

 

Junhui kicks him off the couch when it gets closer to midnight, complaining that Minghao’s been ignoring him, so that he can come and squish onto Minghao’s lap. Soonyoung wonders if his friends only speak out loud for his benefit. Mingyu and Wonwoo are certainly like that, but Jeonghan and Jisoo seems to enjoy speaking out loud. Minghao and Junhui fall somewhere in the middle. When Soonyoung looks around the room he wonders for a moment what it might be like.

 

He remembers, then, that he’s made a choice.

 

When it’s 3 minutes to midnight, the group pulls on their coats and follow Mingyu onto the chilly rooftop outside their door. Wonwoo holds plastic champagne glasses in his hands, and as Jisoo keeps track of the time, Wonwoo and Mingyu pop corks and pour everyone a healthy measure of champagne.

 

In the distance, they can see fireworks going off somewhere in the Seoul night sky. Soonyoung can see his breath fogging, and he’s filled with a strange, burning anticipation the closer the clock ticks to midnight.

 

He’s wedged at the edge of the roof next to Wonwoo on one side, and Chan on the other, but he’s afraid to make eye contact with the man. Wonwoo’s fuzzy thoughts keep bumping into his, vague impressions of ideas, competing with the sensation of Chan’s thoughts. Soonyoung’s been drinking and it’s clear that his boundaries are a little looser, that he isn’t controlling himself as clearly as he’s used to. He reflects, briefly, on how he’s yet to be sober around Chan, and wonders if this is a clouding factor for his predicament.

 

Chan’s looking at him like he’s seeing stars. Soonyoung _knows_ what he wants, can see it in his eyes, but he’s afraid. He moves back from the rooftop, pushing away from Wonwoo’s side, and taking a few steps back behind his friends.

 

What’s the worst that can happen? Is he a fool for holding back?  
  
Soonyoung thinks about his parents, who threw him out at eighteen, and the terrors of growing up under a bond that acted as handcuffs, keeping two incompatible people together for years. He thinks of all the arguing. He thinks of his own depression, and how little he wants to inflict it on the people around him.

  
Chan steps with him, holding his gaze. Everyone is preoccupied in each other, seems not to notice the two of them move closer to the doorway. Soonyoung stares back, watches the way the fur-trimmed hood of Chan’s coat flutters in a winter breeze. As Jisoo counts down, Chan gets a look in his eyes, determined and hopeful.

 

“I came here for you, hyung.” Chan whispers.

 

“I know.” Soonyoung says. As Jisoo shouts down the last number of the countdown, all his friends start cheering and raising their glasses. Soonyoung seems them lean into each other out of the corner of his eyes.

 

Chan moves closer, leans in just a little, until their foreheads touch, slipping his free hand into Soonyoung’s.

 

The touch is enough, palm to palm, and Soonyoung gasps a little. He feels how much Chan wants to be near him, feels heat travel between them. Chan holds on, closing his eyes for a few seconds too long, before drawing back and letting Soonyoung’s hand go. He looks down at his feet and for the first time, Soonyoung thinks that Chan looks unsure.

 

When Soonyoung looks around, his friends are laughing at each other, most of them still tied up in one another. Wonwoo walks over and ruffles Soonyoung’s hair, giving him a big hug and wishing him a happy new year. Mingyu follows, toasting his glass, and Soonyoung remembers to drink the bubbly liquid. He looks back at Chan, but Chan’s trying to move out of Jeonghan’s embrace where Jeonghan’s got his head between his hands and seems to be cooing. He still feels connected to him, this time without touch between them, still feels Chan’s thoughts on the edge of his own.

 

And right now Chan is… confused. Hesitant.

 

The party comes to a close after midnight, as people trail back inside for a little bit to say goodbye and warm up before heading out. Soonyoung bites his lips. None of this feels natural, or right, with him. Why is he such a coward? He feels terrible about the whole thing.

 

Chan seems to be ready to head out. Soonyoung looks around and sees Minghao watching him. Minghao raises his eyebrows a little, and Soonyoung blushes. He zips up his coat and hastily says goodbye, following Chan to the door.

 

“I’m leaving too, Chan.” Soonyoung says behind him. Chan turns around, surprised, but doesn’t protest. Soonyoung secures his beanie on his head before he heads out after the younger man.

 

They make their way carefully down Wonwoo’s stairs, and when they reach the bottom, Chan slows his steps so that Soonyoung falls into step next to him. There’s still an energy pulsating between them, a tension.

 

Soonyoung takes the lead without speaking, the thoughts rolling around his head in confusion and heated contention. He’s battling with himself, but eventually, as they continue to walk the distance between his place and Wonwoo’s, he reaches a conclusion. Chan is still following, brow creased, but without complaint. They walk until Soonyoung reaches the foot of his apartment building. He stops, and Chan gazes at him, thoughts obscured from his. There’s miles between them, and it hurts, physically hurts, to be denying the bond right now.

 

“Do you want to come up for tea?” Soonyoung murmurs, looking down at his feet. It’s cold, and it’s late, and he cannot bear to send Chan away right now. Chan gazes at him, and a tiny, genuine smile comes over his face.

 

“Of course, hyung.”

 

He follows Soonyoung past a broken elevator, and up three flights of stairs and to the end of a hallway. There’s some music from some of his neighbours, and the lady next to him smiles at Soonyoung as she says goodbye to one of her guests.

 

Soonyoung’s hands shake as he opens the door. He walks in, turns on the lights, and lets Chan follow him inside.

 

It’s quiet as Soonyoung unties his boots. Chan steps out of his first, shrugs off his coat, and walks into the living room. He takes in the shelves of books lining the walls wherever there’s space, the fantasy book posters hung on some of the walls. There’s a second-hand purple armchair where Soonyoung does most of his best work where a wool blanket is piled haphazardly on top of it, next to his and Wonwoo’s old blue couch. There’s a small kitchen with a hallway leading off of it. Soonyoung puts his coat on a hook behind the door, and grabs Chan’s from his hands gently and does the same.

 

“I’ll get the water going.” Soonyoung says eventually, leaving Chan in the tiny living room.

 

He turns on the kettle, pulls out two mugs, carefully opens a cannister of rose bud tea that Jisoo had given him many months ago. He pulls out honey from a shelf. He feels a pulse between them, although Chan’s is low and muted, like he’s trying to contain it.

 

When Soonyoung has poured out the water, he carefully grips both mugs and brings them into the living room. Chan is sitting in his armchair with a book in his hand, and Soonyoung winces a little when he sees the cover. Chan’s glasses are sitting on the table.

 

Chan looks up, his expression kind.

 

“You didn’t mention that you were a poet.” Chan says. Soonyoung puts the cup down in front of him on the scratched black surface of the coffee table, sits down on the couch angled around the armchair. Chan’s still holding open the book, an anthology that Soonyoung had been published in a couple years ago. He’d been leafing through it again, leaving it on the table before he’d left for Wonwoo’s.

 

“I don’t really consider it my most attractive feature.” Soonyoung admits honestly.

 

Chan thumbs a page over, then reads out loud: “’What is on offer but the night sky? The darkness all-encompassing, that unbonded love song falls flat. What am I if not my ghosts?’”

 

He looks thoughtfully at Soonyoung, who’s cheeks dust with pink. There’s a galaxy in his eyes when he speaks. The atmosphere between them is heavy, almost serious.

 

“Is that what you think?”

 

Soonyoung knows what he’s getting at, knows what he’s asking. He won’t lie to Chan.

 

“Yes.” He whispers.

 

There’s something soft in Chan’s eyes, something flickering like a blue flame. Chan leans forward, towards Soonyoung.

 

“You’re wrong.” He whispers with nothing but tenderness.

 

Soonyoung feels like he might cry. Chan is a _stranger_. He barely knows him, it’s been less than a week that he’s even had Chan in his life. What is happening to him? There’s so much energy between them, even now. Words he’s resisting. Soonyoung’s seen into his mind, knows that Chan’s got a heart of gold. That’s why it brings him to his knees to hear him speak to him with so much kindness.

 

There must be something complex that crosses his face, because Chan continues.

 

“I can _feel_ it, Soonyoung-hyung. It doesn’t have to be like what you’ve seen before.” He speaks with a quiet conviction, and Soonyoung closes his eyes. When he opens them again Chan is on his feet and he’s coming to closer to him now from where he’s seated on the far end of the couch. He’s still got his walls up, but the closer Chan comes the more he feels them faltering.

 

“Can I tell you something?” Chan asks him. Soonyoung knows what he means, knows that Chan wants to communicate just between them in the silence of the slow air.

 

Soonyoung’s built up walls for a reason. Denying the bond has done nothing to prepare him for how affected he is right now, with Chan only a moment away from him. But he nods anyway, heart rate picking up.

 

Chan puts a knee on the couch, leans in and touches their foreheads together, noses bumping. His eyes are closed, but Soonyoung’s are wide open as he feels the warmth return and wash over him from the points of contact. He breathes in shakily, counts the eyelashes on Chan’s face, and when Chan opens his eyes his heart stills. He feels the warmth of their touch bleed into their bond, and something _breaks_ inside of him.

 

And almost like he can’t help it—despite all the rules he’s set for himself, Soonyoung lets down his walls one by one, peeling them back and slowly coaxing himself open. He gives in to Chan’s light.

 

And then he’s drowning in something bright and blinding, sparks and firelight, burning. Chan’s emotions are overwhelming, he can taste something soft, and everything Chan’s been holding back from Soonyoung, everything that’s been muted in the conversations they’ve had out loud, is filling every space in Soonyoung’s mind, driving out the clouds and lighting up the eternal night in Soonyoung’s heart.

 

Soonyoung’s thoughts flicker through all his fears—his worries about ending up like his parents, the many years he’s spent alone avoiding all talks of bonding, the resignation he’d had to being alone when he’d first started medication—and Chan is there with him, taking them in. In a moment, he sees all of Soonyoung’s deepest vulnerabilities laid bare.

 

Chan is looking at him with determination, and when Soonyoung opens his mouth—for what? To ask for a reprieve? To be spared this moment?—Chan leans forward, presses his mouth insistently against Soonyoung’s, and Soonyoung closes his eyes in shock. Soonyoung feels a jolt through his entire body as they kiss for the first time, and he has only half a second to register the softness of Chan’s lips against his, the hot warmth, the way he presses back as Chan’s hands come to cup his face again in both of his. Chan leans back after a moment that stretches into forever and not long at all, and when he opens his eyes again, Chan pulls back, presses a light kiss to his lips, once, before moving in again slowly, sensually. Soonyoung feels their bond pulsing with new blood as Chan’s thoughts coalesce in his mind, a mantra.

 

_I’m here._

 

Chan says it with his mind forcefully, shouting and quietly passionate, as their mouths slot against each other, moving together again. Chan’s climbed onto his lap now, both knees bracketed on either side of Soonyoung, and Soonyoung’s got his hands around his waist. And Soonyoung knows the words are true by the way his entire being fills with a lightness and headiness and his heart floods with Chan’s declaration. All his senses are overwhelmed in a golden glow, and when Chan pulls back, drops his hands to Soonyoung’s and leans their foreheads together again without withdrawing his thoughts from Soonyoung’s mind, Soonyoung feels the tears gather, prickling in his eyes.

 

Soonyoung doesn’t even know when he’d projected his thoughts, but the bond between them is intense now, engulfed in Chan’s adoration and something else, something that Soonyoung isn’t ready to name yet. He doesn’t realize that Chan’s heard him until Chan leans forward again, kisses him once, briefly.

 

_You don’t have to hide anymore,_ Chan thinks gently. And Soonyoung breathes in his comforting scent, let’s himself be held in Chan’s strong arms.

 

He reaches out tentatively.

 

_Being with you would be the most selfish thing I could ever do,_ he admits. Chan laughs a little, tremors running through his body, vibrating against Soonyoung’s.

 

_There are worst decisions you could make,_ Chan reasons smartly, and this makes Soonyoung smile. Chan closes in again, kisses him like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

 

\---

 

Soonyoung is late. He’s finishing an order for pickup, an oversized bouquet of rose-quartz pink and hand-grown blue roses, hoping that his co-worker Samuel will make sure it goes to the right person. When Samuel comes in Soonyoung hurriedly tosses his apron to the side and quickly says goodbye.

 

He walks quickly to the train station, and rushes home where he changes as quickly as possible into a pressed black suit before heading back to the streets and hailing a cab. He makes sure grab his satchel on the way out.

 

The cab driver hums and plays pop music in the car, and seems like he’s in a good mood. Christmas is a week away, and for once Soonyoung almost misses the summertime. He smooths down his tie, and feels inside his bag, re-checking that he does, in fact, have everything he needs for tonight. Wonwoo texts him a series of question marks, and Soonyoung responds hastily.

 

To: Wonu

_ON MY WAY!_  

 

From: Wonu  
_I can’t believe you’re late to your OWN book signing!! Amateur!!_

 

Soonyoung gets a phone call from Ren just then, who’s stress levels seem to be at an all-time high as he speaks to Soonyoung in a perfectly calm voice. Soonyoung reassures him that he’s indeed only five minutes away.

 

The cab stops in front of a busy street in Insadong, where a brightly lit bookstore sits on the corner. He pays quickly, grabbing his bag and heading out. He skips a little in his step, pushes open the door to the ring of a bell.

 

“Sorry, we’re closed for a priva—oh, you’re finally here.” A bored voice says at the door. Soonyoung rolls his eyes at Jihoon, quickly rushing past to the back of the store where a podium and table to the side are set up. There’s a small crowd standing around with champagne in flutes, which seems like a workplace safety issue, in Soonyoung’s opinion.

 

Ren rushes over to him, elfish features screwed up in a mask of what Soonyoung knows is false calm.

 

“Nice of you to show, Soonyoung.” He clicks out. Soonyoung barely has time to look around before he’s ushered to the front of the room, ditching his coat on an unimpressed Wonwoo as he goes. Mingyu waves at him from the back of the room, and Junhui gives him a whistle. Minghao stops him from where he’s milling near the front, grabs his arm and runs a hand through Soonyoung’s bangs, and then pushes him forward.

 

On the table next to the podium is a sharpie and a sizeable stack of paperback books. Soonyoung is momentarily stunned by his own name splashed across the cover: _Highlight_ , it reads, _by Kwon Soonyoung._

 

Ren takes the podium, and the room quiets down. “Thank you for coming out to the book launch of Soonyoung’s first novel, _Highlight_. Pledis Publishing is very excited to add his work to our collection of up and coming Seoul writers, and we hope you enjoy his reading tonight. As you know…”

 

Soonyoung tunes out for a second as he spies a latecomer coming into the room, face flushed from the cold. There’s a rush of warmth that calms his racing pulse. The once-brunette man in question, hair now a shimmering pink, holds something behind his back that Soonyoung can’t see from the front of the room. Soonyoung tries to mentally reach out, but he’s met with resistance.

 

Affronted, he turns back to the podium just as Ren is ushering him to the front. Soonyoung grabs a dog-eared copy of his book from his bag, and makes his way to the podium.

 

The reading goes smoothly. Soonyoung is distracted by the wall that Chan is putting up, but he labours past it to give a good performance. Junhui and Jeonghan take to clapping at the worst moments, while an audience of people he doesn’t know clap politely at the end. When he’s done, Seokmin is the first to greet him at the signing table, lining up with three copies of Soonyoung’s book that he has him make out to various friends. Wonwoo and Mingyu are next, with Mingyu taking teary-eyed photos with Soonyoung at his signing table. Even Jihoon shakes his hand before returning to the till at the front of the shop.

 

Most of the people in the room congratulate Soonyoung one by one, until the last person in line places a bouquet of pink and blue roses in front of him. Soonyoung looks up and frowns at the man. From this angle he can see every one of his eyelashes.

 

Chan laughs at the look on Soonyoung’s face. “Sorry for being late. You’ll still sign my copy, right?”

 

Soonyoung sighs. “I can’t really say no to a paying customer.”

 

Chan grins, and it lights Soonyoung up. He lets Chan’s energy fill him, and then he does, in fact, sign a book just for Chan. Chan slips it slowly into his bag, and when Soonyoung looks around and realizes that no one else is paying attention, he turns back to Chan and gets up to give him a hug.

 

Chan doesn’t let go, discreetly pressing his lips to Soonyoung’s neck. Out loud, he whispers to Soonyoung. “You look beautiful. I’m so proud of you.”

 

Soonyoung blushes. He’s heard it many times, often at his worst moments, but he’s no less affected even now, a year later.

 

“Thank you.” Soonyoung says, eyes crinkling into half-moons.

 

Eventually, Soonyoung’s audience start to filter out one by one. Ren and Jihoon begin to clear up the books, until only Wonwoo and Mingyu are left in the room with them. Wonwoo touches his hand briefly before he heads out, and Soonyoung feels how proud Wonwoo is of him. He smiles briefly, before Mingyu gives him one more hug.

 

“We’ll see you at Jeonghan-hyung’s?” Mingyu asks. Soonyoung nods.

 

Soonyoung surprises himself by giving Ren a hug too, before pulling on his coat and walking out with one hand clutching Chan’s flowers, and the other on the strap of his book bag. Chan leads him to a cab, and they get in. Chan’s still carefully blocking his thoughts from Soonyoung, to Soonyoung’s consternation.

 

Chan directs the driver back to his apartment, leading Soonyoung up an elevator, to a nondescript black door. He looks back at Soonyoung briefly, before opening it and leading him inside.

 

Soonyoung gasps. Chan’s living room is hung with twinkling lights, from the ceiling to the walls, and Chan’s put out vases and vases of flowers in every type of white, pink, and blue. He takes Soonyoung’s bouquet and places it in the centre of the room, in a waiting empty vase. Soonyoung shrugs off his coat, lets it drop near the door, before he turns back in wonder. Chan turns to Soonyoung, fumbles for something in his pocket. 

 

“This is what I see when I look at you, Soonyoung…”

 

Soonyoung cuts him off, surging forward, and pressing his lips to Chan’s. He throws his arms around Chan’s neck, kisses him until he’s breathless. He pulls back a little, pressing his forehead to Chan’s and breathing deeply. 

 

“You idiot,” Soonyoung finally says, “couldn’t you just wait until New Years’ like you were supposed to?”

 

Chan looks at him like he’s the moon and the stars at once, before understanding fills his eyes. He laughs, letting down the mental barriers between them, and Soonyoung basks in the warmth of feeling Chan’s body against his.

 

_You’re really going to let all my hard work go to waste?_ Chan thinks. Soonyoung smiles, presses another kiss to his lips.

 

_Ask me, then._

 

Chan draws back a little, looking flustered all of the sudden. His voice comes out in a whisper.

 

“When I think of you my entire body feels like it’s been found.”

 

Soonyoung flushes. He can feel that it’s true, can sense it through their connection. He shakes a little as he holds on to Chan, let’s his hands slip to Chan’s waist. He looks into Chan’s eyes when he responds.

 

_That’s because we’re soulmates._

 

Chan eyes go wide. Soonyoung’s never used those words before. He gets a beautiful smile on his face, presses his lips to Soonyoung once, twice. Tenderly. With love.

 

_How does spending the rest of our lives together sound?_

 

Soonyoung smiles into the kiss.

 

_There are worse decisions I could make._


End file.
